


Tender Care

by celtic7irish



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, unapologetic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 20:08:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3087359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/pseuds/celtic7irish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren curled under the thin blankets in his solitary cell, shivering with cold and pain as his body shuddered, his hands covered in bite wounds.  Once again, he had failed to transform, no matter how much he hurt himself.  Maybe the Captain was right.  Maybe he couldn’t transform because he didn’t want to.  He didn’t want any of this; not the titan, not the fearful looks from his friends, not the eager curiosity of Hange.  And he especially didn’t want the pity he saw on Mikasa and Armin’s faces when they watched him struggling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tender Care

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a gift on another site, so I figured I'd post it here. I'm not a fan of this ship, but I love hurt/comfort and fluff, so here it is.

Eren curled under the thin blankets in his solitary cell, shivering with cold and pain as his body shuddered, his hands covered in bite wounds.  Once again, he had failed to transform, no matter how much he hurt himself.  Maybe the Captain was right.  Maybe he couldn’t transform because he didn’t want to.  He didn’t want any of this; not the titan, not the fearful looks from his friends, not the eager curiosity of Hange.  And he especially didn’t want the pity he saw on Mikasa and Armin’s faces when they watched him struggling.

 

“Dammit,” he muttered into his flat pillow, refusing to let the tears fall even as his hands throbbed and stung.  “Dammit!”

 

He was so lost in his own misery that he almost missed the opening of the cell door.  Figuring that it was just Captain Levi or the crazy Hange coming to drag him out to try yet again to transform, he ignored the quiet footsteps, refusing to acknowledge the other person’s presence even as they stopped in front of him.

 

“Eren?  Are you awake?”  Eren startled, twisting out of his covers to stare wide-eyed up at his best friend.  Armin was kneeling next to him, watching him with open, concerned eyes.  Armin’s expression crumpled, and Eren realized that he’d forgotten to wipe away the tears from his eyes in his surprise at having the other boy here.

 

“Armin?” he asked gruffly, wiping his arms across his face belatedly.  “What are you doing here? You’ll get in trouble if they catch you!” he hissed, his eyes darting nervously towards the cell door where it hung open.  The guards that had been there when he’d first laid down were nowhere to be seen, but they’d probably be back shortly.

 

The blond smiled at him, only a bit worriedly.  “It’s okay, Eren,” he reassured him quietly.  “I spoke with Captain Levi and got permission, as long as I take responsibility.  Come on, let’s get you out of here, okay?” he asked.

 

Eren frowned at his friend, but didn’t protest when Armin tugged firmly on his wrist, careful to not grab his injured hands.  Together, the two boys left the cell, Armin leading the way while Eren cast about them suspiciously, waiting for the Captain or somebody to show up and order him back to his cell, to reveal that Armin had been lying and was now in trouble.

 

Nobody stopped them, and the two boys made their way carefully outside.  “Armin?” Eren asked uncertainly; this wasn’t the town within the walls, there was nothing protecting them from an attack out here.

 

Armin just smiled at him softly.  “It’s all right.  They’ve set up a perimeter, and we’re not going far,” he promised.  “I just thought that maybe you’d like a bath, some food, and a proper bed.”

 

Eren stared at his friend in amazement.  “Are you serious?” he hissed.  Armin nodded happily, grinning at him.  Eren’s lips twitched, and he slowly broken into a smile to match his friend’s.  “Then what are we waiting for?  Lead the way!” he ordered.

 

Armin chuckled quietly, then turned to face forward again, his hand not letting go of Eren’s wrist as he kept his eyes trained on the darkness around them.  Even with a perimeter guard, it didn’t mean they were in the clear.  If an attack was swift enough, the line would be breached before they ever managed to shout a warning.

 

Eren followed Armin’s lead as the two of them skirted a handful of broken down cabins, the warped wood and cracked foundations little more than a shell that did little to keep the wind at bay.  But Armin’s steps were steady, and so Eren allowed himself to be pulled behind his friend, until they reached a building that appeared to be at least a little more structurally sound than the ones around it.

 

As they approached the front door, a shadow shifted, resolving itself into a familiar form.  “Mikasa?” Eren asked, surprise startling him into speaking louder than he’d intended to, and he winched, looking around as if the Survey Corps would descend on them at any moment, taking him back to his cell and punishing his friends for aiding him.

 

The older girl ignored him completely as she nodded to Armin.  “All clear,” he murmured.  “I’ll keep watch.”

 

Armin murmured his quiet thanks in reply, and then they were inside, the door closing behind them and leaving them in semi-darkness.  Armin – or somebody – had apparently found some candles, and they gave off small spots of light, giving Eren a general sense of the room.  He sighed, his shoulders relaxing a bit now that he was no longer out in the open.

 

Armin offered him a small smile, his eyes sharpening with that unexpected cunning that never failed to surprise Eren, given the other boy’s mild temperament.  There was a reason that Armin was valued for his strategizing.  “You’re cold, and hungry,” he said, and Eren just nodded tiredly.  “All right, then.  Let’s get you taken care of, shall we?  Bath first,” he decided.

 

Eren blinked at him, then grimaced; as good as it might feel to get clean, the last thing he wanted right now was to take a dip in cold water.  Armin must have known what he was thinking, because he grinned.  “A hot bath,” he promised.  “We heated it just before I came to get you.  Now come on,” he insisted, guiding Eren forward and into another room.

 

Sure enough, there was a large tub of water in the middle of the room, steam curling lazily from its surface.  Suddenly eager, Eren pulled away from Armin’s grip, stripping as he headed for the bath, his clothes dropped haphazardly wherever they fell.

 

He hissed as he settled into the large tub, the water hot enough to scald his skin a bit, but not so hot as to deter him.  Armin gave a small laugh as he held out a bar of lye and an old rag taken from somewhere, and Eren accepted them gratefully, lathering the soap on the cloth before scrubbing earnestly at his skin, heedless of the stinging pain from the bites on his hands from the water and the lye.  If he had been able to change like they’d wanted him to, those injuries would be healed already, left behind with his humanity in the rush of transformation.

 

A pale hand settling over top of his where he was busy scrubbing at his arms caught his attention, and he stilled, his eyes staring blankly at the hand on his, not trembling or afraid or angry, just resting there.  “Eren?” Armin asked, his voice quiet, gentle.  Eren didn’t look up, continuing to blink at the sight in front of him.  His thoughts were slowly sinking into a thick fog, hazy and uncertain, and he found himself slumping under the weight of the fear and confusion that hounded him.

 

There was a small sigh, and the cloth and soap were pulled from his unresisting grasp.  “Here, let me,” Armin murmured, and a moment later, the cloth was back, working more gently and smoothly across the broad expanse of his back and shoulders, the suds sliding down dusky skin to float on top of the bathwater, spinning in lazy eddies with every shift of Eren’s body as Armin moved him this way and that, careful not to linger anywhere in particular as he helped scrub Eren clean.  Eren allowed his eyes to slide shut, trusting his friend to not let him drown as he relaxed in the warm water, his mind very carefully blank.

 

When Eren started to shiver as the water cooled, Armin urged him up and out, hands on his elbows to help him keep his balance as he stepped over and down to the floor, wincing as his uncoordinated legs resulted in him slamming his knee into the side of the cistern.  “Shit,” he mumbled softly, earning a startled burst of laughter from his friend.

 

“Are you okay?” Armin asked, and they both knew that he wasn’t asking just about the knee.

 

Eren nodded.  “I’m fine,” he mumbled, lying.  Armin didn’t call him out on it, though, just held out a large towel, pulling back when Eren tried to take it from him.  With a huff, Eren let the other boy towel him dry, his movements brisk and efficient, before wrapping him in a fresh towel.

 

“Come on, then,” Armin murmured, coaxing him into motion.  Eren followed willingly, surprised when Armin led him to a bedroom rather than back outside or something.  Then again, he wasn’t exactly dressed, and going back to his cell would just be embarrassing, for everybody involved.  The thought made him smile weakly, trying to picture what the guards would think of a naked Eren wandering through the camp.  Perhaps they’d think he had transformed?

 

There was a pile of soft-looking clothes on the bed, and Armin released his arm.  “I’m going to go check with Mikasa.  I’ll be back in a minute,” he promised.  Eren nodded in acknowledgment, hearing the other boy leave on quiet footsteps.

 

Dropping the towel in an untidy pile on the floor and shivering as his damp hair sent trails of water down his back, Eren slipped into the clothes, pleased to realize that they actually _were_ as soft as they’d looked.  He wondered idly where Armin had found them, as they were a bit too large on his frame, easily covering his feet and dragging over his hands, the collar slipping down his shoulders.  With an almost childish delight, Eren pushed up the sleeves a bit before clambering onto the bed.  His thoughts were still sluggish, circling around his problem, but they were slowly being overlaid with the realization that Armin had meant what he’d said when he’d gotten him out of that cell.  Whether he had permission or not, Eren would not be going back to the cell.  Not tonight, at least.

 

The thought that this was probably only temporary put a dampener on his mood, and he curled up on top of the threadbare blanket, turning his gaze towards the door as he waited for Armin to come back.  He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, eyes watching the doorway and ears listening for any sounds of alarm – the last thing he wanted to deal with right now was a Titan attack – but he was eventually rewarded with the soft footfalls that indicated another person heading towards him.  A moment later, Armin peeked inside the room, offering him a pleased smile when he saw that Eren was waiting more or less patiently.

 

“Hey,” he greeted quietly, padding further into the room.

 

Eren scooted over on the bed, leaving room for the other boy.  “Hey,” he returned.  “Is everything okay?”

 

Armin nodded, climbing onto the bed to sit next to Eren.  “Yeah, everything’s fine.  It’s quiet tonight.  Mikasa says to get some sleep.  She’ll stand guard.  And in the morning, we’ll go kick ass.”  Eren grinned despite his more morose thoughts; those had to be Mikasa’s exact words, because Armin would never be so crass.

 

Eren yawned, suddenly realizing that he was exhausted.  Armin caught his yawn, and Eren offered him a sheepish smile.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

 

The blonde just shook his head.  “Don’t worry about it, Eren,” he soothed.  “We’re all exhausted, and I know that transforming takes even more out of you than normal.  Besides, you haven’t been sleeping properly, have you?”  Concerned blue eyes met his, and Eren bit lightly on his lower lip, wondering if lying would be better.  But Armin was staring at him so earnestly that he just didn’t have the heart for it.

 

He shook his head.  “No.  I’m afraid,” he admitted.  “What if I transform in my sleep?  Or if I wake up and panic and transform?  I could kill someone.  You, or Mikasa, or Jean or any of them!”  Now that he had allowed himself to speak the words, they kept coming.  He was horrified at himself, but he couldn’t seem to stop.  “What if I accidentally call other Titans here?  Or if the King decides that I’m too dangerous and sends people after me? If you try to protect me, they’ll kill you, too!  I can’t…I don’t…”

 

He didn’t get to finish before his face was pressed up against Armin’s thin chest, the fabric starch and scratchy against his skin.  He realized with absolute mortification that he was near tears.  Again.  What the hell was wrong with him.

 

“It’s all right, Eren.  I’ve got you,” Armin murmured, pressing lips carefully into his damp hair.  That was all it took, and Eren shuddered once before breaking out into sobs – great, heaving things that wracked his entire frame as he muffled his cries against Armin’s uniform.  For the first time that Eren could remember, Armin was the stronger one.

 

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but his body slowly gave into his exhaustion until he lay slumped tiredly against his friend, tucked against small frame.  A gentle hand was stroking the top of his head, combing through his hair.  They were rocking slightly, but Armin had stopped talking some time ago.

 

Eren’s eyes felt gritty, his face hot and covered in tears and snot, his throat parched.  He pulled back slightly, muttering an apology which Armin waved away, holding out a cup of water to him.  Eren accepted gratefully, drinking three quarters of the cup and then dipping his hand into the cup and using the rest of the water to rinse his face off, still shuddering with the occasional hiccup.

 

“Feeling better?” Armin asked, and there was nothing condescending about the question.  Armin was without guile – he had always been the best one out of the three of them, despite his seemingly cowardly disposition.  But that wasn’t it at all, not really.  Armin just preferred to think about problems, rather than confronting them head-on like Eren and Mikasa, with fists and taunts.

 

Eren let out a shaky sigh, nodding.  “Yeah, I’m good.  Better,” he answered honestly.

 

Armin smiled at him again, handing him a towel from somewhere, and Eren used it to wipe down his face and the back of his neck.  He grimaced at Armin’s uniform shirt.  “Shit, Armin. I’m sorry,” he muttered, too tired to be angry with himself.

 

The blonde just shrugged.  “It’s had worse on it,” he reminded Eren, who flinched at the reminder of one too many close calls.  All of them had, at some point or another, wound up with blood on their unforms – either their own or one of their comrades’.

 

Armin seemed to debate with himself for a moment, then slipped off the bed, moving just far enough away that he could strip, folding his clothes neatly in a pile on top of the makeshift dresser.  Eren’s clothes were there, too, and he wondered when Armin had taken the time to pick them up and fold them.

 

Down to just his long underpants, Armin climbed back into the bed, slipping under the comforter and holding it up in invitation.  Eren smiled at him weakly.  “We haven’t done this since we were kids,” he muttered, but didn’t protest as he slid under the covers as well.  Once he was ensconced in the blanket cocoon, Armin curled up against him, tucking his head under Eren’s chin in a position that was as familiar to Eren as Mikasa’s scarf.

 

“We’re still kids,” Armin pointed out practically.  Eren grimaced, not caring for the reminder on his age.  Not that he was the youngest soldier out there, but he was still pretty damn young.  They all were, unless you counted Erwin, who might be in his thirties.  The survey corps tended to be a short-term position with a high turnover, mostly because they had the riskiest job of all possible groups, and death by Titan was almost assured.

 

One of Armin’s arms was pinned under Eren’s side, and the other one lay lightly across his ribs.  “Do you think you can sleep now?” Armin asked, his voice a mere whisper.

 

Eren nodded, keeping his voice down to a whisper as well. “Yeah, I think so.”  Armin smiled brightly at him, and Eren felt his lips twitch upwards in response.  “Good night, Armin,” he murmured.  “And…thanks.”

 

There was a brief pause, and then the arms wrapped around him tightened.  Eren’s eyes drifted shut, and he was nearly asleep, free and safe, when he heard the breath of the other boy’s reply.

 

“You’re welcome.”


End file.
